Here's to the Next Fifteen Years
by Adriana DiVolpe
Summary: Angela/Mary one-shot. - FEMSLASH - AU post-ep for 1x06 Un, Deu, Tri, Figo, Quiggly - A few weeks after Martin's departure, Mary suspects Angela might be pregnant and confronts her about it.


**prompt: **_famil_y

**word count:** 1252

**Author's Notes:** So uh, this was my first attempt at a fic with anything resembling a plot for this show, not just some banter inspired by something stupid. I think I failed pretty hard; the whole thing is pretty terrible, characterization and content alike. But no one else wants to write fanfiction for this show (HINT HINT SOMEONE ELSE PLEASE WRITE ME SOME PLEASE), so here, have a fic even though it sucks.

ENJOY! LOLOLOL

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**Here's to the Next Fifteen Years**

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"Ange."

The only reply that came was a slightly muffled moan.

"Ange."

"Leave me alone. I'm sick."

"That's what I want to talk to you about."

Angela raised her head from her arms, where she'd been slumped against the shop counter. "I've _got_ the _flu_." She enunciated each word pointedly. "What's to talk about?"

"I don't think you have got the flu, Ange."

Angela narrowed her eyes. She was not in the mood for this. "What do you _suggest_ I've got, then?" she asked with a severity she did not feel.

"I think you might be pregnant," Mary said quietly.

Angela looked at her blankly for a long few seconds. "Oh God!" she wailed suddenly, covering her face with her hands. "I didn't want to think about it! Why did you have to say it?"

"You've got to think about it eventually, Angela."

"No, no!" She shook her head emphatically. She began to chew her thumbnail, staring at the edge of the counter.

"Look," Mary said patiently, "I'm not saying it's definite. But we've got to face facts here, right? The flu doesn't usually last two weeks, and it doesn't usually ease off in the afternoons, does it? There's a very good chance you're pregnant, Ange. I think you know that."

Angela showed no signs of listening. She looked completely lost. At some point she had begun rocking slightly, back and forth on her stool; whether she was reacting to what Mary had said or simply to her own thoughts, Mary wasn't sure.

"Ange."

No response.

"Angela, look at me," she said gently, grasping the hand Angela was chewing and pulling it away from her mouth. "Don't get yourself worked up, alright? Don't need you havin' another panic attack."

This got Angela's attention. "It wasn't a panic attack!" she said indignantly, turning to glare at Mary. "I _saw_—"

"I know, I know: a bear."

"You'd have reacted the same way!"

"I'm sure I would have, if I'd've actually seen the bear."

"You don't believe me. You never believe me about the bear, no matter how any times I tell you!"

"Look, whether there _was_ or was _not_ a bear is not important at the moment."

"There _was_ a bear," Angela grumbled.

"The _issue_ at the moment," Mary repeated, "is what are we going to do about this?"

Angela inhaled sharply and brought her hands up to cover her eyes.

Mary pulled her hands down and held them firmly in her own. "No, no, we've already done this bit. We're moving to the next part now, the part where you think about it."

Biting her lower lip, Angela looked away at the ceiling, bouncing her leg restlessly.

Mary gave her a minute. As she watched, the crease between Angela's eyebrows deepened and her eyes became more and more agitated.

"I know that look," Mary sighed. "You're just panicking, you're not actually thinking."

"I don't want to think about it." She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head slightly. "It's... Oh, God..." She stopped, let her breath out, opening pleading blue eyes to look at Mary. "I'm scared," she said in a small voice.

Mary's expression softened. "Come 'ere." Wrapping her arms around the redhead, she held her close to her chest.

Angela buried her nose against Mary's shoulder. Inhaling deeply, she breathed Mary's familiar scent and tried to calm her shaking nerves and restless stomach.

"Listen," Mary murmured reassuringly, "you got nothing to be scared of, Love. Because I'm always gonna be here. You couldn't get rid of me if you tried. So whatever happens, it don't matter."

Angela sniffled and Mary could feel warm tears on her neck.

"Now, I know you're strong. You been through worse than this. You're gonna be fine." She stroked Angela's hair lightly as she spoke. "And I know it always scares you, when you feel like you got no control over somethin'. But I think that's what this is, isn't it? I don't think you really know how you feel about it. You haven't thought about it at all, have you?"

Mary felt Angela shake her head.

She paused a moment. "Well what _I_ think, right," she said slowly, "is maybe it's not so bad."

Angela sniffed and drew back far enough to see Mary's face.

"I know we never really talked about it much, kids or anything." She stopped, thinking. "We always thought we were just killing time, waiting for something better to come along. Fifteen years we've been together, Ange. Fifteen years we been waiting. And maybe we were just playing around, back then. Maybe we didn't know. But it's taken me fifteen years to realise, there isn't nothing better coming."

Angela twisted her head slightly and cast her eyes down at the countertop.

"How I know there's nothing better going to come along," Mary spoke softly, "is that I know there isn't anything better out there." She rubbed her thumbs over the back of Angela's hand. "I love you, Ange."

Angela's head came up suddenly as though this surprised her. Uncertain blue eyes looked deeply into Mary's sincere brown ones.

"And I don't want anything else, except you."

The doubt in Angela's face gradually gave way to a quiet gratitude, bringing a smile to Mary's lips.

"That's my girl," Mary said affectionately, tucking a few stray curls behind Angela's ear.

Angela smiled somewhat weakly.

Mary squeezed her hand. "You still scared?"

"A little."

"But a bit better?"

"Yeah. Still feel sick, though."

"Not much I can do about that, I'm afraid."

"Nope." Angela blew out a sigh and rested against the counter, laying her head in her arms.

They sat in silence a minute before Mary remarked, "It might be kind of nice. You know. Havin' a kid of our own. We could be like a real proper family."

The redhead opened her eyes.

"What d'you think?"

Angela's expression did not inspire confidence. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Mary rolled her eyes and handed Angela the bucket she'd stashed under the counter for this eventuality.

Mary swept Angela's hair back from her face, rubbed a reassuring hand across her upper back. "Okay?"

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Angela drew a couple of shaky breaths. "Yeah." Closing her eyes, she breathed slowly until she came to a decision. Nodding abstractedly, she turned to Mary. "Let's do it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Mary smiled warmly, laying her hand on Angela's knee. "You been lookin' after me for 15 years; no kid could be as bad as that, eh?" She paused a moment before saying, "I know you'll be a great mother, Ange."

"Thank you."

"I always wanted to be a father," Mary joked, getting a little snorted laugh from Angela.

"Hey," Mary grinned, "shall I ring up Martin, tell him he owes you for child support?"

Angela wrinkled her nose slightly. "Naw. He's a prat. If I never hear from him again, it'll be too soon."

"Yeah." Mary patted Angela's knee affectionately.

Breathing in, Angela said suddenly, "Mary..." She faltered under Mary's gaze. "I... You know." She looked down at the pattern of her skirt, biting her lip. "I didn't... say it earlier. But..."

"I know."

Resting her palm against Angela's cheek, Mary brushed her thumb against the skin as she leaned forward to kiss her lips softly.

After few moments Angela pulled back. "I taste like vomit, don't I."

"A bit, yeah." Mary handed her a packet of Tic Tacs. "But it don't mean I don't love ya."


End file.
